April seventeenth
Is national haiku day.
Do you give a crap?
Tag Archives: Stupid
No Respect (But So Far No Consequences…)
Far away, in the Land of Grent,
There was a forbidden shrine
Where the chosen champions meant
To make their mark and dine
Among the Gods, and so they spent
Their days praying to the divine.
My cat, however, just up and went
And peed in the holy wine.
Filed under Poems
When You’ve Had Enough Of These Idiots, But You’re In The Middle Of A Raid
Some call it soda.
Some call it pop.
Some call it cola.
I tell them to stop.
They call me a downer,
A prophet of doom
So I logged off my game
And I left my room.
Filed under Poems
Past, No Presents, And Eternity
The saddest nights in history
Are probably the fall of Rome,
The night you watch the start of “Up”,
And when Santa worked from home.
Filed under Poems
Apparently He Was A Commercial Whaler
I always wonder about the scientist
Who named the sperm whale.
I imagine he was drunk
And probably male
And thought making you say “sperm”
Was a hoot and a gas
And he probably idolized the guy
Who named donkeys “ass”.
Filed under Poems
Alohahaha
If I take off my Hawaiian shirt
You may think I intend to flirt
But when the Hawaiian pants come off…
Hey, wait a sec! Did you just scoff?
Filed under Poems
I’d Get Arrested In Europe For Writing This…
There once was an American leader
Whose mind was starting to peter.
He said “Easter’s the day
“Where we normalize gay”
And some people still think this ain’t theater.
Filed under Poems
But Will They Play A Jazzy Star-Spangled Banner On A Ukulele While I Wait?
Thank you for calling the Federal Gov,
The people who rule you and speak from above.
We’re using your tax dollars to be on our break
So please wait seven hours. Your freedom’s at stake.
Filed under Poems
Why Won’t He Wife Me?
Everybody tells me that he’s poison
And is blood is made of boiling gasoline.
He’s never loved anybody more than himself
And he’s a barrel-chested killing machine.
He eats a baby bunny for his breakfast.
He’s got Bambi’s mommy mounted on the wall.
He’s a runner and a gunner and a scoundrel
And like OMG, I hope he’s six feet tall!
Filed under Poems
My Essay on the Causes of World War II
I like how people decided
That art was subjective
And you can like anything you want
But then you draw a bicycle
And you get a C in art class
From a guy whose degree
Taught them a red line on a blank canvas
Was worth millions of dollars.
Maybe I should be a politician instead?
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 